


enough of a bastard to be worth knowing

by clowntoddhoward



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Fluff, John Mulaney References, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Trans Crowley (Good Omens), Trans Porn by Trans People, feminine terms for genitalia, he doesnt technically bottom thats just his energy, mr sheen if you read this i am so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 18:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20493053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clowntoddhoward/pseuds/clowntoddhoward
Summary: "The angel had looked him in the eye, laser-focused despite the copious amount of wine they’d both consumed, and told him, quote, 'My dear, if I have to wait a second longer to, as you put it, ‘jump your bones’, I will utterly lose it.'"Or, demon nuts in five minutes or less [not clickbait] [gone sexual]





	enough of a bastard to be worth knowing

**Author's Note:**

> please be warned that i use feminine terms to describe crowley's vagina; if thats bothersome, turn back now!

For all his millenia of demon-ing, Crowley had never quite met someone as dastardly as the Principality kneeling between his legs and enacting the slowest, worst, _ best _torture he’d ever had. 

He dug his fingers into feather-soft hair, pulling desperately at blonde tufts as Aziraphale licked a hot, wet stripe up his thigh. The angel smirked—_smirked, _ that _ bastard_—and stroked his thumbs over Crowley’s bony hips. He looked absolutely wanton, kneeling between Crowley’s legs; his lips were wet and a lovely cherry red which nearly matched his flushed cheeks, and his half-lidded eyes were clouded with desire. And yet he’d managed to stay far more composed than his partner: Crowley was dripping wet, and Aziraphale hadn’t even _ touched him. _

Ooh, that _ bastard. _

“Are you still with me, darling?” His angel was impossibly soft and gentle, looking up at him with a quiet earnest that made his heart warm and full. Aziraphale continued to pet him, his touches sensual and toeing the line between chaste and not. 

“I am,” he nearly choked, and it really wasn’t fair that the angel, the _ sweet, innocent little angel, _ could have this kind of effect on him. But he should’ve expected it, really; six thousand years was more than enough time for a demon so attuned to sin to find out that Aziraphale was the horniest little bitch he’d ever met. For his part, Aziraphale only smirked before kissing along his inner thigh, then suddenly, sharply _ sucking. _

Crowley, somewhere between a surprised moan and a string of curses older than time, really, _ really _hoped it’d bruise. 

Oh, he was so, so weak for his angel, as the kids these days were saying. His legs trembled involuntarily, threatening to close around Aziraphale’s head. It wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, he thought, suffocating between his partner’s thighs (they didn’t need to breathe anyway), but he doubted it would be nearly as fun for the angel. Crowley wasn’t exactly… soft.

Red, swollen lips pulled away with a sinfully wet pop, leaving behind a bright angry mark that was sure to stay. Before he had time to react, Aziraphale was making his way up, kissing and sucking and scraping his teeth against sensitive skin, and if his angel didn’t hurry the _ fuck _ up he was going to… well, he didn’t know exactly what he would do. Crowley had surrendered control to Aziraphale the moment the angel had looked him in the eye, laser-focused despite the copious amount of wine they’d both consumed, and told him, quote, “_My dear, if I have to wait a second longer to, as you put it, ‘jump your bones’, I will utterly lose it.” _

He could see every move Aziraphale made, and yet he was totally unprepared for _ feeling it. _ Light blonde curls brushed up against his belly, too soft to be ticklish; the angel’s nose pressed against his clit, sending a sharp shock straight to his hips; the wet heat of a tongue dragging against his folds, oh, _ holy shit. _Crowley rolled his pelvis, desperate for more, and he could feel Aziraphale laughing against him. 

“G-get on with it,” he bit out, too far gone to even feel a little embarrassment over his stutter. The angel giggled again, sounding way too cheerful for their situation, and licked again with a lewd slurp. He lapped at Crowley, tongue ducking between his folds and teasing his entrance mercilessly. Oh, God—Satan—_someone, _Aziraphale was going to be the death of him, and they’d hardly even begun. 

He couldn’t stop the soft groans escaping him. He knew Aziraphale had to be getting off on this; the bastard only seemed to press forward with more zeal, hands firm on his hips, pinning him down. It was a damn good thing the angel was restraining Crowley too. _ He _knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from rutting desperately against his partner’s face. That didn’t stop him from jerking his hips involuntarily, and a thrill of arousal shot through him when he realized that Aziraphale had him held fast against the bed. 

“Angel—oh, somebody, _ please,” _ he keened, not sure what he was begging for. Aziraphale immediately answered his prayer, sucking—_sucking!— _hard and then pushing his tongue inside of him. 

Holy shit. _ Holy shit. _ Crowley could’ve passed out from the sensation: of Aziraphale’s face pressed right up against him and rubbing against his clit with each movement, of the almost invasive heat pushing against his walls. He had no idea how even just his angel’s tongue could make him feel so full. Sure, he’d taken more in the past playing solo, but this was new and different and _ Aziraphale. _ And—Aziraphale shoved his tongue deeper, curling it just right, and all higher brain functions ceased for exactly two-point-three seconds—for a holy being, the angel had one _ hell _of a mouth.

Crowley wailed. He couldn’t, he _ couldn’t, _ Aziraphale was going to be the death of him. His arm collapsed underneath him, where it’d been propping him up in a sitting position, and he fell into black silk and complete and utter bliss. He didn’t think once about his sinfully loud moans, or his hand clawing into blonde tufts, or his thighs locking around his angel’s head. All he felt—oh, he felt _ so much— _ was wet, hot pressure pushing its way through him, a scary-exhilarating heat pooling in his gut, soft yet firm hands holding him down against the bed, fingers digging into his thighs hard enough to bruise. Then, Aziraphale hooked his tongue against _ that spot _, again and again and again, and he reached out and stroked his thumb over Crowley’s throbbing clit, fast and merciless, and all he saw afterwards was white. 

He came down slowly, sensations creeping in one at a time: a pleasantly warm, wet towel over his thighs and crotch, cool silky sheets against his flushed skin, carefully firm hands petting him—and there was a voice, soft and glowing and filled with love, and he had to blink back hot tears. 

“Oh, Crowley, you did so well,” the voice cooed, spilling out with affection. “You’re so good for me, my darling boy, I love you. So _ good. _ ” Crowley did his best to open his eyelids (he _ did _have them, they were quite useful for blending in before glasses were invented), grateful that the curtains were closed and the lights were low. 

“... ‘ngel?” He mumbled, not quite sure of where his mouth or his limbs or any of him were. Aziraphale smiled and brushed his damp locks back, stroking his hair. 

“I’m here, my dear.”

Crowley let himself be cleaned and manhandled back into bed, unable to move his arms and legs. He had half a mind to ask his angel if they were still there, and he must have said it out loud because Aziraphale snorted and dissolved into a fit of giggles. He mustered up the best glare he could—it _ ought _to have been effective; he was a demon, for somebody’s sake!—but Aziraphale only laughed harder, his eyes brimming with mirth. 

But even so, the angel cleaned him up carefully, extra-gentle around his sensitive areas, and he massaged Crowley’s worn limbs, working them slowly until he could feel them again and very nearly lulling him into another hundred-year nap. They settled down between the soft sheets (a luxury Crowley had demanded when he saw the sorry state of the bookshop’s living quarters), Aziraphale holding him against his plush chest and rubbing his back. 

And then, Crowley _ realized. _

“Shit, _ angel, _ did you…?”   


“Hush, darling, it’s alright,” he soothed, kissing Crowley’s forehead. He smiled a bit sardonically, in such a way that screamed _ bastard _ but only to those who were willing to listen. “I did _ , _ I couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried Seeing you fall apart like that… it was beautiful.” Crowley turned an interesting shade of pink, the words making him dizzy with pleasure, and he nuzzled into Aziraphale’s chest. He could feel the angel smirking—he _ could!— _even if he couldn’t see his face. 

  
His angel was a bastard, a _ huge _bastard, and Crowley loved him so much.

**Author's Note:**

> outtake: Aziraphale licked crowleys feet mmm tasty mmmm micahel sheen has a fursona HE DOES COWARDSde e
> 
> i think im a lot funnier than i actually am gdfjnkjgh. leave a kudos or a comment if u liked it pwetty pwease uwuwuwuwu


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